Invading demeanor.

My one point of departure with S/FJ thus far finds its seedling in his recent critique of Fiona Apple -- not with regards to her latest album, which, having heard the leaked version a few months ago, I thought quite brilliant, but as it stood, lacked finishing touches (which have now been achieved, to perfection {do you comma too much? -ed} )-- but, point being --

He wrote:

"'Tidal' was uneven. Apple was nineteen when she recorded it and had a teen-ager’s sense of drama, which sees the world ending whenever a relationship does; she did not yet know that “invade your demeanor” is a phrase that God never intended anyone to say out loud."

"Invade your demeanor..." -- SFJ finds this sophomoric, phrase-wise. I disagree. Or, perhaps, I am simply sophomoric in my own conceptions of my experience in life, etc. Which is entirely possible, I will admit; but I think Ms. Apple approaches -- and the song reflects this, to boot -- a precise wisdom and self-knowledge that a) is beyond her years, and b) speaks, exactingly, to this kind of particular relationship-interaction. I have often felt this way in my life, even recently. Perhaps too often. Does that mean I am emotionally immature? Ungodly I can stomach, (although after reading Letter Six (among others, more on that later) of Rilke, with much digestion this evening, I am loath to agree with that admission) -- so what? I think it's an emotive reaction; thus. let it stand. For poetry's sake!

Just a thought.

Give her new album, Extraordinary Machine, a listen. It's gorgeous, in its language in and of itself. I wish I had the ability to translate my experience in such a sonorous fashion -- alas, I am condemned (it seems these days, I hate that feeling) to paint. Or charcoal. Or the pen. Ahh, the pen. I've been writing. Am thinking I may end up writing more than painting in this coming year.

Hm.

Rilke and Exley today. Both are brilliant; totally different, but I am now appreciating Exley's nuance, and it is hysterical and gorgeous. What elegant placement of words, what cadence in speech. A Fan's Notes lyrically seems to play out exactly as dialogue generally does in my head; how refreshing, and fantasmagorical. (Is that a word?) I love works that send me to my dictionary for reassurance of what I thought I knew, and did, but then gives me the etymology. MM.

"Words, mere words!" Ah, Oscar.

I wish I had known him whilst he was living.

And I fancy myself to be slightly aware in this regard. There is, of course, always the possibility of me being absolutely wrong, and immature. For the record.

....

"Do you just deal it out or can you deal with all that I lay down?"

Hm. Good question.

Fiona -- a more feminine Ani. Did I really just type that? Both of them would take me out back and shoot me for writing it. But most men can't deal with Ani; nor Fiona. Even though they come from totally different perspectives...which is a statement that deserves some backing, which I will give, soon. But tis time to sleep now.

Posted: Wednesday - October 05, 2005 at 03:30 AM |